


Day 9- Medical

by Broken_Clover



Series: Goretober 2019 [9]
Category: BlazBlue
Genre: Blood, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Cyborgs, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's probably really obvious, Unethical Experimentation, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 23:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20984261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover
Summary: He’d learned two lessons that day, ones that he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to forget anytime soon. The first was the idea that brute strength was a powerful tool, if used wisely. Bare hands could do a lot of damage, even matched up against machine weaponry.The second was that the feeling of having your ribcage torn clean open was the worst sensation that a person could live through.





	Day 9- Medical

He’d learned two lessons that day, ones that he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to forget anytime soon. The first was the idea that brute strength was a powerful tool, if used wisely. Bare hands could do a lot of damage, even matched up against machine weaponry.

The second was that the feeling of having your ribcage torn clean open was the worst sensation that a person could live through.

The whole fight had been a whirlwind, and he’d barely remembered where it started. They were supposed to have been retrieving Nirvana, but the group that had commissioned them had said that Nirvana was supposed to be dormant. Maybe it wouldn’t have been the cleanest mission, but they hadn’t been expecting-

_“GOOD! Keep squirming! I LOVE it when they squirm!”_

A flash of sea-blue hair and burning red eyes sent everything back into disarray.

_“Artillery! Keep on the left, don’t lose track of Nirvana!”_

He couldn’t remember when he’d dropped his weapon. It was nowhere within reach. Partizan always had extras, just in case something happened while they were out in the thick of a mission. But Partizan had been the first to fall down and not get up. He could still see a pale hand clutching her long spear, even as they both marinated in her own blood.

“Flamberge! Pull back!”

It had swiftly turned into a losing battle, and they all knew it. But they also knew that not all of them would be able to make it out. That…_thing_, it was too fast to outrun.

“Take everyone who can still walk and RUN! I’ll try to hold him off- !”

Even that had been wishful thinking. He’d watched Artillery get his jaw torn clean off, Flamberge stabbed on her own blade, Francisca left bleeding out from her snapped-off leg, and Krieg nothing more than a mashed-up pile of flesh, half-crushed under a support beam.

The monster had killed them all, deliberately, right in front of him, as though a punishment for trying to be the martyr. It had left him alive for last, savoring every moment with a wretched sense of satisfaction.

_”You made for a bunch of fun toys. Never had any of ‘em last that long before.”_

He didn’t want to think about some of his best and closest friends, butchered without mercy, not offered a moment to say goodbye to the world before they were taken out of it. All that was left now was him, sprawled out on the hard ground, bleeding and pinned down by something that looked human, but couldn’t be. No human could commit such an atrocity.

Some manic, hysterical part of him laughed in triumph, realizing that he wouldn’t be parted from them for very long.

It seemed to exert so little effort when it ripped him right in two. Almost like opening a present. Though the pain sparked off of every nerve, dragging out a scream that could shake the heavens above, he found himself wondering about the creature that was mauling him. Who had decided to create it? Did it know anything else besides the blood and sweat and tears of war? Was battle all that it knew, or did it simply not care about anything else?

Sharp teeth grazed his exposed innards, ripping out a mouthful of something. The creature was eating him alive.

_”Never had a toy that’s so tasty, either…”_

As long as Bullet was far, far away from there...she’d begged to come along, insisting that her wounds had finally healed. They had all ribbed him over it, laughing about how easy it was for her to get him to say yes. But he had been firm. Of course he cared deeply about their younger member, that was why he wanted her to fully recover before she could go back onto the field, no matter how much she pleaded and scowled.

He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t died yet. He could see a single arm off on its own, and the action of tearing through his ribs had definitely snapped the spine. One eye had been punched clean out, and he could barely manage breathing without trying not to choke as blood pooled in the back of his throat.

There wasn’t much after that. Blood. Screaming, but not his own. Flashing lights. Something was lifting him. Had the goddess of death finally arrived to release him from the agony?

It had been dark then, for a long time. He could make out the vague faces of his friends, staring out in the gloom. They never moved, never said anything, just stood and stared. It still offered a sense of comfort, being with people he knew. It felt less lonely.

The sound of a light switching on felt like a gunshot whizzing past his head. It was the first real sensation he could remember in what felt like an eternity. It was odd to feel something again.

He immediately regretted the thought, as a tidal wave of pain slammed into him at full force. It was a sensation that he recognized. The memories flooded back a moment later- the twisted, mangled bodies of his companions, a horrible, satisfied smile, drowning in his own blood-

“I know, it’s not like I’ve forgotten about you.”

The unfamiliar voice snapped him out of the memories. He couldn’t remember anything, who was she? Why was she talking to him?

The light burned. He barely had enough energy to squeeze his eye shut to hide from it. Something like footsteps clicked in the distance.

“I’ll help you right now.” The strange woman’s voice came back. “No, let me rephrase- I’ll give you a ‘chance to be helped.’”

He had no idea what she was talking about. Was this woman death? Had she come to judge his soul? Perhaps that’s why the light felt so blinding.

The sound of footsteps was joined by the clink of metal, things being pulled and pushed around. He didn’t tend to think of himself as an especially curious person, but the lack of understanding of his current situation definitely had him wanting to know more, even if it hurt.

The light still hurt. It was hard to focus on much more than that. But he could make out a pair of shining lenses looming over him, adjusting things that he couldn’t see. The light glinted off of a dozen cables and wires, attaching and affixing themselves to...was that his body?

There wasn’t much to be seen. It was clear that nearly all of it was broken. Only one limb appeared to have anything useful still attached to it. Needles were stuck into his sides, with no proper arms to find the veins to. He didn’t look like a person. He didn’t look like he was supposed to be alive.

“Hey, can you hear me?”

She was talking to him now? What for? It didn’t make any sense. He managed to get a dry groan out, before it made his head spin.

“I’ve got some interesting readings from you. You’re really lucky. I think you’re compatible.”

“‘Compatible?’ Compatible with what? What was she talking about? Why was he even here in the first place?

He must have made some noise without realizing it. The stranger’s voice came back, sporting an oddly soothing tone. “Hey, hey, you’re _my_ test subject now. I can’t exactly have you die on me.”

Test subject?!

“But I hope you’re ready to become a demon…”

Oh, no. Was this what everything was all about? She’d managed to scrape him off the ground and stitched him back together just enough so that he could be used as a lab rat?! Was this woman absolutely deranged?

He desperately wished he had the power to move. Even attempting a pathetic wiggle was too much, and it only made him writhe in pain. There was nothing he could do as she finished looking him over, and fetched a sharp needle to stick in him.

He could feel the foreign object digging in, pooling out. It burned in his blood, ripping skin and muscles and cells apart and eating what was inside. Was this some kind of torture? It had to be. It felt like being split in two all over again. He could almost see those menacing eyes, boring into his soul as it tore him into bits.

When he finally felt lucid enough to think, all he could focus on was the thought that this couldn’t be his own body, it looked nothing like it.

He wasn’t supposed to be this big, or this red, or this…_metallic_. Something had been welded onto the stumps of his legs (hadn’t there been more of them left? What happened to his other leg?). What were all these extra parts? Why were they here?

“You’re up?”

His eyes snapped towards the source. The strange woman. Something about her face was frightening.

“W-what-” It didn’t sound quite like him. But it was close enough. Closer than everything else.

“Whatever. You don’t need to worry about that.” She held something in her hand. A thick cable came off of it, which she connected to another that snaked across the floor.

As soon as she did, an odd rush of coldness flooded his body. The second cable seemed to connect to _him_ in some way. That wasn’t supposed to be there, so why was it?

“I’ve still got a few more jobs to do with you. But to do that, I’ve gotta clean the slate and start over.”

What? Why did she say so many strange things? Everything felt so confusing. He didn’t know what any of it meant. What did she was with him? Why-

She twisted something on the strange object in her hand, and everything went dark.

>IDEA ENGINE PROTOTYPE SYNCHRONIZED<

>SYSTEM ACTIVATION IN PROGRESS…<

>ACCESSING STORED MEMORY<

>WOULD YOU LIKE TO DELETE?<

>YES

NO

>MEMORY FILE CLEARED<


End file.
